


Ceasefire

by uchihatake



Series: OBKK AUs [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Bottom Hatake Kakashi, M/M, Top Uchiha Obito, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26190448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uchihatake/pseuds/uchihatake
Summary: Obito is assigned to take out a rival agent who apparantly has been intercepting multiple missions undertaken by his agency. He has no clue of what said agent looks like aside from that he is deemed lethal enough no one who had known his true face lived to tell the tale, and beautiful enough to lure them in to begin with.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito
Series: OBKK AUs [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867591
Comments: 23
Kudos: 184





	Ceasefire

10:37 p.m. Paris, France.

Obito likes the attire provided for him tonight. A luxurious black tux with golden lapels and a red accented tie that complements his jet black hair has granted him entrance to the fancy museum gala. It was a shame he had to remove the jacket and is currently suspended midair on a zipline connected to his equally luxurious dress shoes, upside down, positioned above a glass case containing a valuable jeweled crown. He could be sampling the hors d'oeuvres, at this time, but his objective is to retrieve the valuable for a client, the Agency stated. Something about how the jewels in the crown are center to an elite smuggling ring or something like that.

He only does what the Agency contracts him to do because he just honestly likes the thrill of it, because they sure aren't paying him enough for it. Obito purses his lips in concentration as he eyes the infrared lasers criss-crossing the area around the glass case. One wrong move from an inexperienced agent and one of the multiple unseen alarms would go off. But he is Obito Uchiha, and with the deft skill of gloved fingers he extracts the crown off its setting just as he gets radioed on his earpiece, causing him to shift and barely hit a laser on his side.

"Agent Sphere, prepare for extraction with objective."

From the distance Obito can hear various shouts and nearing footsteps. Grabbing the crown, he taps his shoes together to retract the wire, pulling him up through the ceiling and onto the museum roof seamlessly just as the door bursts open seconds later.

"Seems like they realized their guard was missing. Couldn't you have picked a better time to contact me? I was in the middle of the mission." He sighs, cool air of the Paris night hitting his face.

"We've got a burn on Operation MN, counterintelligence involved. A flight has been prepared for your arrival at the destination," the gruff voice continues.

"So they've caught a whiff of that elusive one, huh."

The telltale whir of a copter thunders overhead, and he takes hold of the ladder into the night.

✼

2:14 a.m. Beijing, China.

Kakashi fixes a crick in his neck as he looks at the bodies pooled at his feet. They were poor excuses for henchmen, really, easily taken down with a sway of his leather-clad hips and a piece of taut fishline. He laments the fact he had remained open long enough for one to wrap their slimy hands around his neck during the mission, though he ended up turning the tables anyways on the body with the now-dislocated arm. Suited him right, the gall.

Nevertheless it has all gone as planned—without miscalculation—just as expected for him. He turns the body of the presumed drug lord over with the toe of his boot when a call from his earpiece interrupts his personal musings.

"Good work, Hound."

"Did you honestly expect any less? And I'd rather _not_ be referred to with that nickname."

"You have a new mission," the voice echoes on, disregarding Kakashi's comment.

"Details?" Kakashi asks disinterestedly, pulling out an encrypted document from the boss' dress pants—the purpose of this mission. He runs a decipher on the contents to obtain a password accessing the boss' laptop.

"A hit. Minato Namikaze. Other details will be forwarded to you on the way." The voice fades away. "And by the way, you've got the go-ahead to keep it _clean_ ,"

"Objective complete, proceeding now."

Kakashi finishes transferring over the files to a USB before pocketing it and punching in his favorite code, clicking the laptop shut. He's got about thirty seconds, so he wraps the trench coat he discarded earlier over himself and ditches the uncomfortable stilettos they tried to make him wear earlier. He sets his grappling hook on the balcony railing, glancing below once before leaping off as flames and glass surge behind him, his coat rustling around his frame the whole 20 stories down.

✼

11:45 pm. Osaka, Japan.

Obito glances around the bustling club, swaying along with the music and raising his glass at others with a plastered smile as if he was really part of the mass leisurely having a good time. The blueish hues of the lighting cast above him illuminate the sheer size of the nightclub's lavish interior--ceiling dripping with crystals and all sorts of other similar high-end decor. It is being hosted in Osaka's finest hotel, after all, and by none other than his high profile target.

He makes conversation with a beautiful woman dressed in red, casually grinding with her on the rippling dance floor. He takes no interest in her or her thickly caked makeup but his lips move on their own as he mentally rehearses his plan. Tonight's mission is to take out Minato Namikaze, a renowned drug lord who has been dominating a large chunk of the Japanese black market with drugs, prostitution, and even arms dealing. Mostly the arms dealing. The Agency didn't give him any more information than this, and Obito doesn't really care otherwise. An assassination order means no further reconnaissance is necessary; Minato Namikaze is a high profile figure posing a threat to the Agency, and thus needs to be disposed of.

Airy giggles punctuate his thoughts. Maybe he'll let this woman stick around if his night goes well enough.

 _Hound_. He has been especially warned about the rival agent, the elusive operative known only by the nickname. The unknown male has apparently intervened in multiple missions undertaken by the Agency, deemed lethal enough that no one who had known his true face lived to tell the tale, and beautiful enough to lure them in to begin with.

Obito looks over his conversation partner's shoulder. In such a flurry, "Hound" could be anyone in the crowd.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Are you enjoying yourselves?" The deep voice of Minato Namikaze echoes over the blaring music from an alcove above the dance floor, alerting Obito.

Disregarding whatever he promised her moments earlier, Obito pries off the woman's manicured fingers much to her protest and continues moving along with the tide of people gradually closer to the terrace. Obito squints at the sudden influx of harsh lighting and cheers. Minato Namikaze sits at his place on the terrace, surveying the crowd as if a king on his throne, and flanked by bodyguards on each side.

Obito observes a grating as part of decoration off to the side of the stairs. It would allow him concealed access to the terrace at a good vantage point. Setting his glass aside—it would be a shame to waste such a good vodka—Obito makes his way over to scale it. It doesn't take him long before he has a clear view of the bustle below him and his target on the other side of the room. He quickly gives the crown of his psuedo-Rolex a twist to activate the mechanism. One calculated, lethal dart of potassium chloride loaded in his wristwatch and game over for Minato Namikaze.

As Obito fires all the lights go off, plunging the nightclub into a true darkness.

He backs away from edge as shouts of surprise and screams occur below him, unable to see if he has hit his target.

When the lights resume flashing, he sees that his dart had missed Minato Namikaze and hit one of his nearby guards instead, perhaps to a shift at the last second. The drug lord looks barely startled, whispering something intelligible to his men and Obito clenches his teeth as his target is led away. He does see a portion of the bodyguards swarm down the stairs towards the exits, and he knows he has to slip away with the main doors out of the question. The mission has been intercepted and he will have to report to the Agency for further orders.

He ditches his upscale blazer to slide down the other side of the grating, casually picking up his drink from before. There's only a faint sound of music now.

"Hey, what are you doing here? Party's over."

Obito turns around to see a brusque guard blocking his view. Most of the partygoers has vacated this area, leaving him with ample opportunity to take out this one guard, if he so wished. As he prepares for the offense, he sees a well-dressed man with silver hair approach them.

The man grabs his face suddenly and presses their lips together, Obito registering a taste across his tongue distinctly vanilla liquor. Automatically Obito has hands running through the other's combed locks, mouthing his lips along the man's jawline.

"He's with me," the man says to the guard, who is in a daze but spares them no other glance, muttering for them to get out.

The silver-haired man pulls back from the kiss with slightly flushed cheeks.

"Sorry, that guard looked like he really had it in for you. Saves the questions, doesn't it?"

Obito is surprised he was so observant. However, he can see that the look in the man’s eyes is purely seductive despite the flush on his pale cheeks. The eyeliner he wears accentuates the sultry look in his eyes under the blue lights.

"I guess I look up to no good."

"But... I'm starting to think it was the right thing to do, don't you?" A sly smile graces the man's lips.

"It was the right thing to do," Obito murmurs, amused at the stranger's cheekiness. He usually doesn’t go for men, but something about this man is undeniably alluring. "Why don't we get out of here? It's no longer fun, and I'm thinking the taste of this drink pales in comparison to your lips."

The stranger offers a smile at his words.

✼

"I haven't even gotten your name."

The man looks up from his task of unbuttoning Obito's expensive shirt, leaving a smirk and mussed hair in his wake.

"It's more fun that way, don't you think?" he responds huskily, gaze playful and clearly impatient. Throughout the whole elevator ride, it was nearly impossible for them to keep their hands off each other, things almost escalating in the elevator itself. Minato Namikaze had ordered for the whole hotel to be on a strict lockdown, but the stranger had eagerly invited him into his suite.

Obito makes a mental note for the suite. The man he ends up with tonight is perhaps high-end, being able to afford such an accommodation. Being the skeptic, Obito had felt up the other and his attire earlier in the elevator for weapons, but the stranger came out clean. Now he is more focused on how the other is tossing the remnants of his pants off and straddling him.

"Tonight was a bummer. But I think you know how to make things more exciting, don't you?"

"Me?" Obito breathes as the man works a lubed condom over his length.

"Don't worry. I've prepped beforehand."

"So you've been anticipating for something like this tonight?" Obito groans as the other sinks down onto his member.

"You could...ah..say that," the man pants, grinding his hips in a rhythm making them both gasp at the sensation. Few of Obito's encounters of this sort were ever this forward, unless they wanted to kill him. Perhaps it is better to enjoy this, since he needs to lie low anyways.

Obito flips their positions, eases between spread legs and the stranger becomes incoherent as he pushes forward repeatedly. The man is truly a vision to behold, Obito thinks as he works his mouth and touch on the man. The young man's dark eyes and gaze is too sensual, his skin pale and inviting albeit the marks littered here and there, legs slender and perfect wrapped around him. He lets his thumb slip in at the corner of the man's open mouth, watching the other deliberately suck on it with glazed eyes, knowing what Obito wanted.

"Fuck."

Obito removes his thumb and tugs the man's legs up against his shoulders, effectively bending him in half, thrusting into the him seamlessly. The man proves to be more than a little flexible, lifting his hips effortlessly high above his head, exposing his all to Obito. A low whimper escapes his lips as Obito thrusts back in at this new angle.

Both moan at the intensity of the penetration, and after setting a fast pace Obito is practically driving the other deeper into the mattress. The silver-haired man has a skill for tightening around him, Obito notices, making it harder for him to keep even thrusts throughout the pleasure. He settles for falling back on his knees and rutting in the into the slick entrance until his partner throws his head back and comes all over their chests.

When he comes down from his own high, spent, he watches as the man graces his fingers over the mess on his own chest before bringing them to his own lips. It takes Obito all his strength to not get hard again at the sight and grab a towel to clean them both up. Obito collapses next to the man, who seems to have dozed off after their activities.

He thinks it’s rather vulnerable of the man to have let him into his bed, but he supposes he owes him for getting him out of the situation earlier and providing him with enough cover and time to think.

Though Obito's still in the dark about how the assassination on Minato Namikaze was intercepted, a reason for concern in itself, what he had with this man was a welcome, and intense distraction to the thoughts that scurry across his mind. He shuffles into his discarded clothes silently, careful not to disturb the sleeping man. He really is attractive, silver hair against pale skin, a beauty mark under the corner of his mouth. But then again, he is a one night stand of many that he won’t ever see again.

He has to contact the Agency.

✼

In the darkness of the room, Kakashi watches the man leave the suite and once he's sure footsteps have left the hallway, he reaches behind the headboard to pull out a sleek laptop.

"I've stayed out of sight as ordered. Tell me what went on tonight," Kakashi speaks into the device with fingers rapidly typing on the keys bringing up hidden code files all over the screen glowing in the darkness.

"It took you long enough to report back, Hound," a rumbling voice projects through the device.

Kakashi disregards the tone and props himself higher on the pillows, stretching his legs comfortably. He has rather enjoyed tonight's lay, a pleasant feeling thrumming along his spine down to the tips of his toes. It was a welcome distraction from the otherwise unpleasant change of plan he'll have to deal with now.

"The plan was botched. I had everything calculated. Killed the power and was supposed to have my chance to take out Namikaze, but someone other than me apparently needed to shove a dart in his neck too, care to explain?"

"Another operative was hired by a third party to take out Minato Namikaze as well. You two foiled each other's attempts."

"Bull."

"Your new objective is taking out that operative. He will get in the way of our interests,"

"Info?"

Kakashi pulls on a black satin robe over his exposed body, removing some documents and a passport he has hidden in the paneling underneath the bed. He has stalled long enough with his evening romp, and by now Minato Namikaze should be a few hours in on his way to Kuala Lumpur, albeit surely with a lowered guard.

"Only known by operative name 'Sphere'. Male. Appearance unknown and real name unknown. It's certain he will be following Minato Namikaze's movements." The transmission ends there with a ping on the screen indicating coordinates.

Kakashi collects his extra attire and sparse weaponry hidden throughout the room, making sure to pocket nicely the keycard he obtained from the technician he had so neatly disposed of earlier. He fixes up his mussed appearance in the mirror, casually smirking at the reddening marks at the base of his neck. The people that ever got to touch him in such a manner ended up dead, but he'd let the handsome stranger slide; it wasn't as if he'd see him ever again. For now, he'll have to deal with a new hindrance.

✼

9:14 a.m. Lion City, Singapore.

"Thank you,"

Obito nods briefly to the flight attendant as she takes away his now empty glass of champagne. He returns his attention to the neatly clipped stack of documents in front of him. He has only before landing to debrief himself on his new cover. For the duration of this trip, he's designated with the cover of a businessman from a respected aerospace technologies company. As a prominent rising star employee, the company has entrusted him with the task of securing a business deal with Nara Industries, a well-known player in the international arms trade and also a suspected supplier for the arms dealings of Minato Namikaze. It's been a few weeks since the Osaka mission, and Obito does lament the fact that Namikaze's whereabouts are now nigh impossible to track thanks to the interference of operative _Hound_.

Hound has since gone quiet, only confirming the intelligence report that he was after Namikaze too. Obito would honestly love to shove a Glock down the man's throat, when he gets the chance, for causing him the excess trouble. But that would have to wait. Cover work isn’t exactly his preferred choice of mission, especially when there's no safety net associated to keep him out of the hands of the Singaporean authorities.

There isn't really info about his cover self that Obito thinks would make or break the deal per say, but he knows it wouldn't hurt to know the small, humanizing details that might come in handy. Supposedly he's been solidly working at the company for three years and graduated specializing in engineer control systems. It probably would impress a secretary or two, provided he'll be escorted by one. It's sometimes refreshing to see how sophisticated the details are supplied by the Agency for window dressing.

“Ladies and gentlemen, as we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you..."

The pilot's announcement states the aircraft will descend in the next few minutes, and Obito peers out the window to view the outline of Singapore below. The city skylines at night are rather breathtaking, but he wonders just how much he can truly enjoy his stay at the Ritz.

✼

"Mr. Nara will see you now. This way please." A fresh-faced secretary motions for Obito to follow her out of the lobby, eyeing him flirtatiously.

He is led into an office more homely looking than the modernity of the rest of the building, taking a seat at a rounded mahogany desk. As Obito straightens his suit and shakes the man’s hand briefly, he takes note of the family portrait set on the table, presumably of his family, and a vast collection of gold envelope cutters. There is no trademark gold band on Mr. Nara's ring finger, however.

Mr. Nara is an impressionable man, Obito soon discovers. A little talk about his family and a shared nationality has him slipping into comfortable usage of Japanese. Obito plays his part well in humoring the man when need be.

"I'm glad they've sent you here. Usually the ones that A.S. sends here are very drab, very dull minded individuals," Mr. Nara says. "All about the business, but half of business is the personality. I'm sure you're aware that partnering with our company is something of a hot commodity?"

"Definitely, it's a thriving industry," he agrees absentmindedly, keeping his eyes on the clock behind the man’s head. "I'm aware you have an impressive roster of global clients as of late, and your output would surely need to increase if it's going to stay that way."

There's a knock on the door and the secretary from before peers in.

"Kurenai, I'm in the middle of business," Mr. Nara reprimands irritably.

"Sir, it's an urgent matter."

At this point Obito's sure his trip of the security system has worked, giving him about two minutes of distraction time.

Mr. Nara clears his throat, giving Obito a glance. "Very well. Please excuse me for a moment."

As soon as Nara leaves, Obito nudges the family portrait on the desk, confirming his suspicions about the so-called "family man" when he discovers a camera lens on the back of portrait frame. His interceptor signal seems to have turned this off for now.

He opens the desk drawer he saw the man shuffle around earlier during their talk. There's only a small tablet computer in the middle, password-encrypted. Obito is never really much of a hacker, so he's glad that the Agency provided him with a good set of tools this time around.

Obito switches his smartphone to scan mode, running it along the device. There's a click as it decrypts the password lock on it. He was right, it was a client's list of transactions. There are accounting logs detailing shipments to independent buyers, a frequent one being Minato Namikaze. But strangely in the last few months the allocations of his shipments have been going to a Danzo Shimura instead. Before Obito can elaborate on this information, he hears the door knob click and he discreetly saves the details on his phone, restoring everything to order.

"Is everything alright, sir?"

"It's unfortunate that I have to deal with malfunctions at the lower level, so I'm afraid we'll have to cut this meeting short. I'll have a talk with my accountant regarding the details, but consider our deal still on," Mr. Nara says and Obito smiles cooly.

✼

Obito doesn't have much time to spare before his scheduled flight out of Singapore, so he hails a taxi for the airport.

"Airport, please," he states to the taxi driver, sliding the screen between them shut and pulling up his phone to contact the Agency.

"State your codename and transfer." A familiarly brisk voice prompts, encrypting the call.

"Sphere. MN. "

"Sphere, report."

"There have been multiple wire transfers of funding from an unknown source to Nara." Obito mentions, " It's no longer under Namikaze, but under the name Shimura. The name familiar?"

"Only as a name, Agent Sphere. This will confirm our suspicions of his actual involvement in the same arms trade as Namikaze."

"That's great news." Obito sighs, knowing all too well it means this case is getting complicated. The cab slows down to a crawl, prompting Obito to check in with the driver.

"What's with the traffic?"

"There must be a delay," the taxi driver responds. "It's backed up all the way here."

It's definitely something not in the memo, so Obito passes the driver his payment and heads off to the entrance by foot.

"There seems to be a bit problem on my end. I'll report back later,"

Masses of irate travelers look ahead at the boards, departure times scrambled with the arrival times in a hodge-podge of numbers and symbols. Obito hasn't seen something quite like this before. Lines are queued up far in the individual terminal help counters. Obito isn’t getting out of Singapore soon until this blows over. Malfunctions like this are never common. As for Hound's possible involvement...

He bumps shoulders with someone in his inattentiveness. An object goes flying and reflexively he snatches what appears to be a DSLR camera by the straps before it hits the ground.

"Careful, now."

"Fancy seeing you here." A familiar pair of eyes peer over tinted sunglasses, voicing the statement in half irritable surprise. He palms the DSLR and checks it, scrolling through a few photos before looking back up at Obito.

Obito recognizes the man from that night. The dim lights did no justice to his beautiful features.

"I didn't know you'd be a photographer."

"A delayed photographer, now." The man runs a hand through his silver locks in exasperation. He leans on a hip. "Been stuck here for a few hours due to some trip of the system, can't even get past the line for security clearance. You?"

"I just got here, but it looks like I have to re-book my hotel room at the Ritz." Obito thinks the man's long legs look especially good in those pants. "It doesn't make sense for us to stay here, does it?"

The man glances behind him for a second then at him, irate expression dissolving into that of warmth. He seems to take more interest in Obito now.

"Oh? What would you have in mind for _us_ then?"

"We have a lot of time on our hands until this is sorted out. Please, let me treat you to dinner."

The man takes up Obito on his offer.

✼

"Obito Uchiha?" the man reads from the business card Obito hands him.

Obito gives him a small nod. The Agency never really sees it necessary to create a fake name for a new identity since no one in the business knows his real names aside from a few of his fellow agents anyways.

"Twenty seven. Hot shot businessman from A.S. Aerospace. For a businessman, you're a lot less frumpy than they usually come by."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Now why don't you tell me about yourself?" Obito asks, enjoying thoroughly a post-dinner drink of champagne with the gorgeous man from the airport. It had taken quite a bit of convincing in order for it to happen, but the dinner itself was pleasant and being able to experience the spectacular view from his own suite with someone else as alluring as the man in front of him is even better.

"But Mister, don't you already know me? A _lot_ about me in fact." The man swirls the glass of champagne playfully.

"At least give me your name," Obito presses.

"Hm, I think you'll have to try harder to convince me." The man twirls the piece of cardstock between his slim fingers. "Gotta be smoother than that, hot shot."

Obito examines the card as it's tapped against the other's lips, feeling rather bold. "Enough of the mysteries. You already know whose name you'll be screaming tonight. It's only fair if I get yours."

"And what makes you so sure of that?" Obito watches as his tablemate continues to feign disinterest as his fingers boldly dancing up the curve of the silver-haired man's inner thigh under the table. His fingers trace neatly up to a noticeable bulge in the tight pants, smirking.

"You've already made up your mind."

At this the man's lips curl up into an amused expression, swatting away Obito's lingering fingers. It's not very long until he's gotten up and pushed Obito onto the made king bed, dropping half-naked to his knees and taking Obito into his mouth.

The man works his mouth over Obito's length, exhibiting cockiness when Obito's hands tangle into his hair. The man's mouth is so expertly giving head that a loud groan slips past Obito's lips, and he pulls away with slickened lips of his own.

"That was nice, but not enough. I’ll give you my age. Twenty six," the man says, lips curling into a smirk as he straddles Obito's lap, wiping his mouth of excess spit.

With a laugh Obito takes the opportunity to catch those lips in a heated kiss, slipping a lubed finger underneath the other's boxer-briefs.

"I didn't prepare myself this time," the younger man breathes, letting Obito's fingers work him open. It doesn’t take long for him to be ready and mounted on Obito's member.

Obito peppers hot kisses on any amount of skin he can grab hold of as the man rides Obito's length with controlled skill, sensual breaths gracing Obito's ear. He manages to strike the other's sweet spot and he hears a satisfying moan, its owner quivering in his arms. It's pleasant to see pale skin flush red with arousal, and Obito tries to seek purchase on the other's thighs during rough thrusts. Something close to a mewl escapes his partner's mouth and Obito thrusts faster, pumping his member in sync to the fast pace. Until the very end, his stranger locks gazes with him. Obito indulges in the way his name slips past the younger man's lips when he climaxes, and it only takes a moment for his release to strike him as well.

"Have I earned your name?" It's more of a breathy murmur against the man's lips than a question. The man's scent is of sex and a certain sweetness under the spice of his cologne, a combination Obito can't get enough of.

Obito's slightly disappointed when all he gets in return is a finger against his lips but he welcomes the other's enthusiasm towards continuing their heated liplock.

Obito finds himself awake during the night. The giant window casts a glow over the bed, the lights of the Marina Bay Sands visible in the darkness. He quietly shifts to sit up on the edge of the bed only to find out he's alone this time. A scrap of paper lies in the empty space next to him, a short word mononymously penned on the front:

_Kakashi_

Obito smiles. It's a name he thinks fits the face. On the back there's a little note about how the other had a flight to catch, and he does, too. He figures it time to reconsider his plan for tracking down Hound. There is little time to waste.

  
✼

Kakashi looks at the now lifeless body laid out on the bed, thumbing through the documents he had obtained while looking through his belongings with a gloved finger.

Zetsu.

He had thought that Zetsu had been the man he had been looking for. He was so _sure_ it hadn't been a coincidence that he was within the vicinity of where he had last been tipped off regarding Agent Sphere. And it also did not seem a coincidence when he had his flight successfully delayed by the interference Kakashi caused at the airport. Unfortunately, judging from the records he has on this guy, he was more of a cobbler that helped other agents forge documents instead of going out onto the field. He wouldn't have been capable of an assassination request against Minato Namikaze, much less been assigned that to begin with.

He really didn't put up much of a struggle, Kakashi thinks as he eyes the body up and down, twisting the silencer of his gun back into its fake camera lens setup. It had been convenient for Kakashi that the businessman stayed at the same hotel as Zetsu, at least it _seemed_ convenient. Kakashi thought about his charade with the strangely charming businessman he had encountered twice and didn't think it too much harm to give him a name. After a life of anonymity, to Kakashi a name means nothing. It doesn't stop him from imagining what it'd sound like coming from the dark-haired man, though.

He had left a tracker in the businessman's bag on the way out, anyways. If he ever changes his mind—well, he could always kill him.

✼

9:48 pm. Prague, Czech Republic.

Kakashi watches the man close the door behind him with a contented sigh, pulling the stained leather gloves off in a swift motion. There's some blood on the towel he uses to clean his pasty hands, which he throws onto the couch with disregard.

Kakashi has never liked what Fuu Yamanaka did. Though Kakashi has long learned to detach from assassinations, it is because it’s his fucking job. He doesn’t _enjoy_ it like the sadistic bastard does. The man likes torture, and it disgusts Kakashi to no end. Unlike him, he does his work cleanly.

Kakashi figures he doesn't want to know the mess inside that room.

“That agent wouldn’t tell jackshit.” Fuu reports. “Figured what’s the point in waiting? A quick death is a mercy, Danzo always says.”

"Still, I thought removing some fingers would do the trick. It's what the Yakuza do, right? Next time maybe I'll remove teeth if they don't budge," the man continues, thinking Kakashi actually holds interest in his conversation.

"Mhmm," Kakashi hums absentmindedly, playing around with his camera. The kid is younger than him. What does he know?

"Hey, Hound—catch." Fuu throws a USB in Kakashi's general direction, almost too blood-stained and quick for Kakashi to catch.

"Don't call me that." Kakashi plugs in the USB into his camera, watching the information load onto the screen. It seems that the agent that had unfortunate pleasure of being Fuu's plaything for the night was affiliated with Minato Namikaze. He was carrying all the info for arms shipments on his person. Namikaze's men either came really loyal, or were beyond foolish.

"What does it say?" Fuu calls out, dismayed at Kakashi’s unresponsiveness, flinging long legs over the couch cushions to plop down next to Kakashi.

"They've got a shipment tonight. The man you've killed was supposed to be in charge of it." According to the information, the shipment of armaments will be transported via a parade float for the annual Prague Parade. It’s definitely a vital shipment for Minato Namikaze—getting the arms into Prague would allow for easy access into other parts of Europe. If Kakashi secures them for Danzo, there’s little else for him to do before his payout.

"That’s good news. For us, not Minato Namikaze. Of course, the only little problem we have with that is Agent Sphere." Fuu's amber eyes bore into Kakashi's. "With this, maybe this time you won't fail to catch him."

"I'll catch him."

Seemingly pleased at Kakashi’s answer, he visibly backs down and slouches into the couch, stretching.

"Good. I really just can't wait to get back to Japan. No place like home."

Kakashi turns off the camera and slings it across his dark colored button-up. He unprops his legs from his sitting position, swiveling away from the boy. "I'm heading out," he says. "Once I'm done I'll join up in Japan."

"Have fun with your businessmen,"

Kakashi freezes, glowering at the smug man on the couch.

"I did quite enjoy the show you put on last time. He gave it to you..." Fuu sneers. "... _Real_ good, it seemed."

“It’d be in your best interest to stay out of my business.” There’s a lot more Kakashi would like to say, but he catches himself gritting his teeth instead. It is a game for Fuu to push and prod until his victims give in, and Kakashi would have none of that.

"Hopefully you understand what Danzo expects of us as his inner circle. It'd be a shame if you ended up like _him_ ," Fuu tips his head towards the closed door suggestively. "We've known each other for a long time you know. But...I'm warming up to the prospect of plucking your pretty teeth." The grin Fuu gives him is wide.

Kakashi makes sure that when he exits the underground warehouse, he isn't bugged.

✼

He’s not like them. He had no choice.

It’s always those like him, orphans that began with nothing, that seek out these professions. The lesser the liabilities, the easier the money. They give you more for a good face too. However, his extra knowledge of hacking and IT provided him with the edge, an edge that eventually caught the attention of Danzo Shimura.

The man is crazy. A psycho that preaches he is righting the disservice done to the world, as if he is any better. If not for the money.. _oh the money_.. he wouldn’t even be here dealing with this right now.

Danzo Shimura and the rest of his henchmen can do what they want, but after his payout he’s going to take a vacation, somewhere far away in a summer house where he won’t have to be afraid of the cold would be nice.

Kakashi holds a firm grasp on his beer as he navigates through packed streets under the building spires of Prague's town square. From afar, he can spot the pulsing live music and light shows.

A group of drunks push their way past him, sending a few slurred catcalls his way. If they want him to kill, fine. But running around doing little errands like these are not on the top of his agenda, especially when he has to participate in noisy environs such as these. He never really understands the appeal of it all, and they've been making them do this since Osaka. Kakashi vaguely remembers hot lips against his neck and runs a hand down the exposed collar of his shirt, shivering.

Kakashi stops as a fenced off street approaches. Ducking in a darker opening of an alleyway, he has clear vantage of the marching festivities. From what he gathered on the agent's USB, he should be expecting the arms shipment to be concealed within a large float in the incoming parade. It was a clever plan, sneaking in the shipment right under the masses like a Trojan Horse of sorts. And what a better way to conceal than a festival? If Minato Namikaze smuggles the armaments across the border, it would be an easy way to distribute to other European countries. It was a smart plan, but now they will belong to Danzo.

There are excited shrieks from the crowd as the marchers are followed suit by the first of the large parade floats. Kakashi watches large balloons, blown up dolls, and various other displays roll past when he finally sees the one that the agent had disclosed. Light illuminates the dim street, and he spots the float with an illuminated large crown.

Tossing his beer aside, Kakashi grabs hold of a protruding bar from the float and hoists himself up and onto the back as it passes by. Shuffling behind a large prop, Kakashi makes out about only five "performers". As the rest of the floats continue on, this float diverges onto an offbeat path. It takes a long while to venture out of the square and into an obscure street laden with warehouses.

Kakashi slinks off before the float is deposited into the warehouse. The men take off the colorful outfits sported earlier, talking amongst themselves. They're speaking in Czech, though Kakashi easily makes out the words _Minato Namikaze_ amongst a little Japanese. He watches from just outside the area as they dismantle the crown display from the float to unveil a large crate's worth of guns and other arms. Kakashi readies his gun, marking his first lanky target when a stream of shouts in rapid Czech are heard. The men are pointing to some device strapped in the crate.

" _Shit._ "

The shipment is rigged. Kakashi thinks he's realizing this too late when the timer stops ticking. He's running backwards as fast as he can—he can hear the shouts and screams of other Namikaze’s men who were even closer, probably dead—and the force of the blast catches him off his feet, throwing him forward into what he thinks are splintering crates before he loses consciousness.

✼

"Agent Sphere, report. Have you come in contact with Blue?"

"My contact's dead." Obito examines the transmitter in his hand, gritting his teeth. The separation of Deidara from his burnt transmitter, as well as his absence, confirms he's most likely dead. “The shipment has already been destroyed, however.”

“And Blue’s intel?”

“I have it.”

"Noted. Your mission is complete here. Make your way to the extraction point."

Obito looks down at the unconscious man shifting in his arms, pausing for a moment before his reply. He deliberates on what he should do with the man he had pulled from the wreckage. He should leave him here and surely first responders will get here to take him to the hospital. But he's not sure if he can leave without knowing Kakashi’s all right. He’s not something he can just walk away from, not anymore. They've met so many times for it to be just coincidence—he has to ensure his safety, mission or not.

From his place at the corner of the warehouse, he sees a lone man with brown hair surveying the area. Obito tucks himself against the wall when the man sets the rugged gaze towards him. He notices other figures beyond the checkpoint surveying the grounds of ruins and so does the man, it seems, prompting him to swiftly exit the area. Obito decides it would be best if he did not end up on any public records. He knows Prague and has a way of finding help for Kakashi where he can proceed undetected.

"I'm caught up at the moment, being pursued. Going _black_. I'll find my way to an extraction point as soon as possible." He breaks off the transmission before his superior can protest as Kakashi stirs in his arms, coughing and sputtering. He turns his head weakly, definitely stunned from his proximity to the blast, misty eyes focusing on Obito’s.

"Obi—“

"Shh...take it easy, Kakashi. I've got you."

Obito doesn’t know why Kakashi was here, or how in the world he escaped the blast alive, but if he wastes anymore time Kakashi might not stay that way for long. With a little effort he lifts the man up and cradles him against his chest, leaving the fiery scene behind.

✼

2:11 am. Prague, Czech Republic.

"All done,"

The man informs, finishing up the last suture. Obito takes the step toward the operating table but the man motions for him not to, instead disposing of the bloody surgical instruments in his possession and gesturing for them both to talk outside the room.

"I've only applied local anesthetic, so it won't be long until he comes to," he assures Obito once the door is closed. "Given the circumstances you've described, he surprisingly only has a mild concussion and whiplash. The stitches on his cheek excluded."

"Thanks, Shisui." Obito glimpses through the window at Kakashi's sleeping form on the table, chest rising and falling peacefully with every breath. He allows himself an exhale of relief. The younger man had struggled to stay conscious throughout the duration of their travel to a neighboring district.

Shisui is a sleeper agent for the Agency, assigned with keeping tabs on the proliferating black market for organs that is popping up in this end of Europe. Incidentally, by posing as a surgeon for a particular branch of a large scale trafficking ring operating in the region. He wasn’t a legitimate doctor, but he was the closest by far Obito could get and more importantly—someone he could trust.

“If you wanted to keep him safe you should've dropped him off at a real hospital and left.” Shisui remarks casually, peeling off his gloves and tossing them into the trash at the back of the dingy hospital backroom. “What's special about him, huh?”

"Picked him up in Prague looking for Deidara's whereabouts." Obito says. "It's obvious he needs to stay alive in order to answer my questions,"

“Oh, _I_ see. You two are fucking, aren't you?” Shisui snorts. “I know you. You're not the type to resist pretty faces like his.”

"He's not involved." Obito dismisses, returning a simpering smile nonetheless. "I haven't lost sight of my current objective, if that's what you're asking."

"You and me both." Shisui's warm expression gradually turns into one more serious. "You do know the risks I'm taking to even let you in here. Even with immunity, if a broker finds out..."

“I’m just a client, if they need to know.” Shisui doesn't need to detail it for Obito to know that he's encroaching upon his boundaries as an agent.

“You knew though, right Obito? That you don't ask favors from me.” Shisui crosses his arms. “Unless you’re willing to return the favor in kind.”

"That's what you always say when I'm in a spot of trouble. When have I ever _not_ returned the favor?"

“Like old times." The other man chuckles. "I'll give you an easy task. There's some escort that owes my broker some settlements. Policy is, he can't back out once he's agreed to the deal—the way it is in this business,” he says in a serious tone before continuing, looking somewhat distracted, “I can't take care of it myself. And I'd rather he swing by voluntarily than have my broker forcibly have me rip out his kidneys for him. Umino Iruka is his name. Japanese, just like us. All you have to do is coerce him lightly to agree, but it shouldn't be too hard for you to, since he'll be right up your alley."

Obito gives a slight nod in affirmation. Shisui resumes treating the particular incident like it's nothing, seeming satisfied as he peers through the door window. "Your boyfriend seems like he's going to wake up soon. Got anything else for me?"

"There is one more thing, does the name Shimura sound familiar to you?” Obito adds after a moment.

“Think I’ve heard Pain toss around the name from time to time, from what I gathered he’s a rising player in the arms trade. There’s not much info, but then again it’s not exactly the niche I was assigned to...” Shisui shrugs, smoothing out his coat for the sake of presentation. “Why?”

“Deidara successfully infiltrated Minato Namikaze’s circle, and managed to find out crucial shipment dates. The next shipment's headed for Japan. I lost contact with him shortly after the disclosure.”

"You mean _Blue_." Shisui corrects. "A shame, really, but now that his codename’s free, they might hand it over to me next. Seems like it's not only the Namikaze guy that's vying for control of the arms market nowadays. Maybe that's what the Agency is wanting. Have them take out each other and make life easier."

“They've got an agent that's been intercepting me. They're quite good, having their face hidden all this time."

"You sound impressed,"

"Their skillset includes tampering with airport flight data. But it's only a matter of time before they slip up and reveal themselves to me."

"I see you're as faithful to the Agency as ever."

"And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?"

"Has it ever crossed your mind that they've been acting for their own interests lately?" Obito watches Shisui dismiss his words of confidence with an indistinct wave, giving him a pat on the shoulder before heading out. "I have my job and you have yours. You should prepare what you won't tell our patient over there. The beach house nearby should be good for the next few days to hole up. It was nice seeing you again, _Sphere_."

Obito opens his mouth to correct him, but shakes his head with a laugh. Shisui has always insisted on following through with referring to the others by their codenames, despite Obito's overt dislike of it. Standard protocol—he gets it. Well, to each their own.

He steps back into the room where Kakashi lies. A brown paper parcel sits on the table where the instruments used to be, filled with medication and a set of keys. Shisui's always perfected mindfulness down to a tee. Obito pockets it before standing at the other's bedside. He can see the quick, darting movements behind Kakashi's eyelids and the thin beads of sweat lining his brow. There's a certain feeling Obito can't pinpoint, but he pushes his thoughts about it out of the way to attend to the awakening man.

"Mmh..." Kakashi groans as his eyes finally flutter open, roaming the room slowly until he stops and fixates his gaze on Obito. "It's you..."

"Thank god you're alright, Kakashi. Do you remember what happened?" Obito asks gently.

"The explosion..." Kakashi's eyes regain clarity for a moment, widening as he moves his stiff limbs up and down his person as if looking for something. Obito eases him into a sitting position, not without noticing how the other regards him with the slightest bit of suspicion. "Where's my...?"

"Please, don't strain yourself. There wasn't anything on your person when I found you. You were shaken up pretty bad so I've brought you to a hospital now."

“You saved me?” the look in Kakashi’s hazy eyes becomes tender. Kakashi draws his attention to the small bandage on his cheek in a daze. The effects of the anesthetic seem to have not worn off. "If I don't have anything, I suppose I have nowhere to go..."

"Well, you won't have to worry about that." At Kakashi's imploring look, he adds, "You can stay with me. Can you stand?"

✼

"Quaint little place, isn't it?"

"It is."

Obito holds onto Kakashi's shoulders as they walk the promenade, careful not to step too closely to the sand. On the way here via the esplanade, Kakashi has slowly regained awareness of his surroundings, no longer fumbling about but engaging in small, sometimes even playful conversation. The small beachfront property overlooking the water would be a nice, serene place to lie low at the moment's notice, but at the same time provide him a way to go into the city.

The property is small but well-accommodated with furnishings, including even a small mini bar and all its trimmings. Kakashi reaches for the bottle of wine propped in the ice bucket.

"What? I need a drink."

"As much as we both do, it won't be good for your condition right now." Obito comments, leading Kakashi to the modest bed at the end of the room.

"I'm capable of taking care of myself, thank you very—tch." Kakashi grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing at his temple.

"You were saying?" Obito raises a brow in amusement. He helps Kakashi into a sitting position on the bed. He digs through the package Shisui left for a small bottle. "Your head hurts, doesn't it?"

"A little pressure." Kakashi confesses. "Just a little."

“Just a little? A painkiller ought to do the trick,” Obito shakes an ibuprofen loose from the bottle, holding it out to Kakashi.

Kakashi looks at it with brief pause before sticking his tongue out languidly, displaying no intentions of doing anything about the capsule himself. Obito places the pill on Kakashi's tongue for him and hands him the glass of water, watching Kakashi’s adam apple bob as he gulps down the liquid excruciatingly slow.

“I’m not touching you until you get better.” Obito confirms much to Kakashi’s amusement. “You need rest.”

“Can’t you let me have a little fun?” Kakashi has a mischievous glint in his eyes as he readies himself for bed by tugging off his slacks.

"Now you're just saying silly things," Obito says, throwing the covers up over him to punctuate his statement. He's nearly forgotten about the other's playful streak, surprised when Kakashi obediently settles down under the covers. He's far from understanding the man in front of him, but he's undoubtedly fascinated with his spontaneity.

"Is this really okay?" Kakashi stares fixedly at Obito.

"Of course it is. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just, you've been nothing but kind to me." Kakashi looks away. "I guess I'm not used to it."

"Kindness?"

“Yes.”

Obito watches Kakashi reach absentmindedly for his wound again, lightly reminding him of the stitches in place.

“It's good that this is the only scratch you have on that pretty face of yours.” He thumbs the gash on Kakashi's cheek lightly.

“Lucky me,” Kakashi whispers dryly.

Obito removes his hand from Kakashi's face, resting it on top of the other's clasping hand instead. There's been something on his mind since finding Kakashi slumped in his arms, something he's been curious about. He wasn’t telling the truth earlier, when Kakashi had inquired about his belongings. There had been a single USB in the other's possession. Obito doesn't know what it contains, but until he can confirm its contents he can't eliminate the possibilities of Kakashi's involvement just yet. Whether he had been a target or not he decides it wouldn't hurt to try being up front about it.

“Kakashi, why were you out there in the first place?”

The younger man looks at him with a purely perplexed expression, furrowing his brow in thought. "Why I was...? There was a client who talked about wanting me for their pictorial. We must've had a few drinks...but I don't remember after that."

It dawns on him that Kakashi could've died like the many other men in the explosion. It wouldn't have mattered to the objective as a whole, if he did. But even so...Obito wouldn't have allowed it anyways. Perhaps Shisui was right—ever since he had lustfully partaken in the scent and feel of the other's skin, acquired a taste for him, it is impossible to get Kakashi off his mind. Whether or not he had been a target, Obito knows deep down there's only one answer he wants to hear.

"Sorry."

“No need to be. You can tell me once you’ve rested up.” He hastily drops the matter, and slips Kakashi's fingers from his own reluctantly. Those were irrelevant thoughts he had.

“Where are you going?” Kakashi asks, inadvertently grasping Obito's retreating hand. He seems to realize after a moment and drops it.

“There's something I need to do first," Obito lies, ruffling his own hair. "Can you stay put here? I'll be back soon."

"Alright," Kakashi curls up further into the duvet covers sleepily, and Obito just focuses on how endearing the younger man looks like that.

"I'll see you when I come back, then."

Shisui has saved Kakashi for him, and now he needs to return the favor.

✼

Obito finds the building Shisui had left him directions to, after sidestepping the many _colorful_ characters of the red light district in this side of Prague soliciting him for services. There were many beautiful women and men, acting both eagerly or nervously in the presence of an unseen pimp. But none of them meant anything to him.

He gives a few quick raps on the door of the shanty apartment. He hears a scuffling noise behind the closed door, a stream of poor Czech following shortly after.

"Iruka? Umino Iruka?"

An abrupt pause, quick click of a chain lock opening. The door opens just a crack and Obito is face-to-face with a long-haired man.

"Shi—oh." The man looks at Obito questioningly, stopping mid-sentence before attempting to close the door on him. "Please leave. I'm not looking for new customers right now—“

Obito sticks a foot in the doorway and forces his way in despite the man's protest, shutting the door behind him swiftly.

"I'm not a customer." He shrugs.

"Then who are you?"

The man backs away from him, clutching onto a small duffel in fear. Obito certainly hadn't expected someone like him to be giving Shisui trouble.

"You can relax. I'm not here to hurt you, whatever you may be afraid of." Obito sighs, showing his empty hands. "I'm just here to deliver a message for a friend. You owe their broker some settlements by calling a deal off, and I'm here to make sure you don't back out."

"Back out? So you're involved with those traffickers!" Iruka cries. "There must be something I can offer you, make you change your mind..." the long-haired man starts pleading frantically, drawing himself closer to Obito. "You're a man too. Anything at all."

Obito firmly grasps onto the smaller man's wrists, effectively pushing their bodies apart. "I'm sorry, but the only thing I'm interested in from you is your cooperation."

Iruka pulls his wrists free, a look of anger on his face. "Then you won't be getting it. I was going to do it because money was tight," he murmurs heatedly, turning away to stuffing articles of clothing and items laid out on a small coffee table into the small duffle. "I'm already in enough shit as it is. You wouldn't understand."

"I wouldn't."

"Look, new guy—you better get out of whatever business you've got yourself into while you still have a head-start. Don't think I'm stupid enough to believe that running is going to be all it takes to get an out. It isn't. But I'm better off doing that than having someone else dictate my life for me,"

He's wasting time. Obito's about to make another attempt at coercion when Iruka's body suddenly slumps forward.

Before the man even hits the ground, Obito realizes that he's dead.

Obito dives for the ground as the next shot fires through the remaining glass of the apartment window. Taking cover behind a small chair, he looks through the window to see a figure on the fire escape. The unmistakable gleam of brown hair in the darkness gives his attacker away.

"So you've been following me. I should've known," Obito grits, pulling his own gun out from his jacket.

The assailant leaps through the window, heavy boots crunching the glass of the windowsill. The man he had seen from the warehouse. No expression shows on his face to acknowledge Obito's remark, only the same rugged gaze as before as he raises his semi-auto rifle at Obito.

Obito dodges a shot, returning fire to continue making distance between them in the small room.

"But you're not too smooth.” Obito shoots at the light fixtures above them with his pistol. They crash onto the man and distract him, giving Obito a chance to tackle him out on the fire escape, timing a well-placed kick with the serrated edge of his dress shoes right into the man's side, drawing blood from the cut wound.

The man gives a hiss of pain, but surprisingly doesn't pursue Obito further—instead, grabbing his semi-auto and disappearing down the escape. Obito ultimately doesn't decide to make chase. He rights himself up and runs back into Umino Iruka's apartment, rushing to the body on the ground. The bullet had gone straight for his heart. He wouldn't be able to fulfill his promise with Shisui now.

The man he has just fought ...what was he after? He seemed intent on killing him—only killing Iruka because he had been standing in front of Obito. If he is involved with Namikaze, in this case, he'll gladly play bait if he can get information from that man. Had he followed Obito all along from the warehouse?

His eyes widen at a sudden thought at the direction the man was headed.

_Kakashi...!_

✼

12:15 p.m. Prague, Czech Republic.

Obito watches the solitary figure floating on his back in the pristine water of the outdoor pool, expression serene against the midday sky. Kakashi had insisted on taking to the waters in the morning as a way of easing back into routine, feeling somewhat antsy and maybe even vexed from their prolonged stay. Swimming's a good choice for recovery and from what Obito can tell, Kakashi's good at it, what with how gracefully he dips in and out of the water to complete his laps.

He takes a sip of his brandy and props himself further up in the poolside chair. It's been some time since that night he had encountered the brown-haired man in the red light district. The assailant hasn't made his move yet, but Obito's sure at some point he will. It's not really a matter of when he will, but what exactly he knows that's making him stall. Without a doubt he's bad news. Obito had to contact the Agency soon before any more complications arise.

On top of it all, he hasn't been able to get through to Shisui. Obito sighs, putting his phone away to revert his attention back onto the laptop in his hands. Plugged into it is the USB he had found on Kakashi's person at the site of the explosion. What it contains could be nothing—or there could be something that'll give him insight on what happened. Regardless of whether or not Kakashi had told him the truth surely he'd rather see for himself than start jumping to conclusions.

The USB is rather clean like he's assumed it to be. Three unnamed folders. The first two are empty, but he's hit with an encryption key the moment he tries accessing the contents of the third folder. The type of security involved is low-level at best, Obito observes, and he runs standard decryption on it without another thought. Instead of the decryption process that should be going through a secondary prompt now presents itself to deny him access to the files. And what's more, it's the Agency's insignia that flashes across his screen along with bits and pieces of some sort of code.

Before he can try to decipher the strips of code the drive ejects itself immediately from his computer. It's of no use when he tries again to re-access it; the USB is now recognized as corrupted. One thing is clear: whatever is on the USB belongs to the Agency and what matters is that Obito had retrieved it—surely someone in the Agency could still salvage the tech. It's none of his business to be prying in the Agency's affairs.

Obito thumbs the detached drive in his hand contemplatively. The presence of the insignia suggests that whatever is in his hand right now is sensitive material, something the Agency has been trying to hide. It's possible for him to just hand it over, but...

With a dull splash Kakashi rises from the pool. Obito quickly tucks the USB back into his pocket and closes the lid of his laptop as the other approaches. "Feeling better?"

"Much better," Kakashi replies, toweling off his wet locks. He glances briefly at the computer in Obito’s lap. "Busy?"

"Not too busy for you."

Kakashi finishes drying the rest of the water dripping off of his body and wraps the towel around himself, joining Obito under the shade.

"Let's see that cut," Kakashi says, placing his hands on either side of Obito's face to examine the fading wound above his temple. Obito grimaces. He'd managed to escape from the assailant but not completely unscathed. He told Kakashi he had gotten caught in the middle of a pub fight. "I hope they'll give you compensation for this."

“It's nothing to worry about,” Obito assures. Kakashi emits a small hum in approval, moving away from Obito to help himself to a bottle of sparkling cider.

“Where’d you learn to swim like that?”

“You know, it's funny. I didn’t used to know how to swim. Couldn't go anywhere near the water. When I was little, the other kids at the orphanage would make fun of me for it whenever we were allowed to go down to the beach.” Kakashi ceases in his action of prying open the cap, lightly scraping his nails against the aluminum. “There was someone I liked, who I had considered a friend. One day they led me out to the water promising me this and that, telling me to trust them—I did, but they didn't hesitate to pull me under until I nearly drowned. That person did it so the other kids could laugh at what a crying, sputtering mess I was.”

“What happened after that?”

“Fearing death turns out to be the best motivator for learning fast. I taught myself when nobody was looking. When I was ready, I gave them a taste of their own medicine. Everyone reacted the same when they were unable to come up for air.” Kakashi's smile is tinged with something close to nostalgia as he resumes, popping the cap off in one fluid motion.

“Seems to me like they had it coming to them,” Obito says, watching Kakashi bring the rim of the bottle to his lips.

“The best part was that they _all_ became too scared of me to ever pull a stunt like that again. There you have it—the story of how I learned to swim,” Kakashi concludes, taking a swig of the bubbly drink.

“There seems to be more. Is there?” Obito can't help but ask.

"You know this thing called trust," Kakashi slides his fingers down the bottle, seeming to think for a moment before continuing, "I think it's a fickle thing. It's there to remind you that the world changes everyday and you must adapt, regardless of where the loyalties lie. So mind if I ask you something?” Kakashi places the bottle down, turning to hold Obito's gaze. “Why did you save me?”

There's always something mesmerizing about Kakashi's gaze. The inviting look those dark orbs give off is of the piercing sort, but unlike the hardened looks Obito’s seen on those who have sold their souls to the trade of espionage, there’s the faintest hint of vulnerability that pulls Obito in.

“What you did for me has been more than what anyone else has ever done for me my whole life. I want to understand why you did it and what I owe you for it.”

“You were worth saving,” Obito finds himself uttering softly. Everything so far may have seemed to be for convenience’s sake, but the last thing he would want would be for Kakashi, of all people, to get hurt.

Kakashi searches Obito's eyes. The towel falls to the floor as he rises, straddling Obito in the chair. Obito slips a firm hand around the small of Kakashi’s back to pull him closer so that their lips bridge the remaining gap between them. The taste of chlorine is faint on Kakashi's lips as Obito kisses him hard, delving their tongues together.

"You always seem to know just what to say. Flattery won't get you anywhere, " Kakashi whispers against the shell of his ear when they break apart for breath.

“So what will get me somewhere with you?”

"I'll need to take a shower first," Kakashi says it more like an invitation than anything.

✼

The shower head douses them in a fine spray, enveloping them in a thick veil of steam. Their swimwear has been discarded somewhere along the pool deck long ago—to Obito it's all the more freedom for him to worship Kakashi's stunning body. Pressed up against frosted glass the younger man is nothing short of gorgeous in Obito's eyes and he decides that he wants to see the other come undone in a different way.

He trails kisses down Kakashi's hipbones as he gets down onto his knees. Hiking up one of Kakashi's legs, Obito works his mouth upwards along the curve of the thigh, enjoying the sighs of pleasure as a result of his ministrations. Kakashi's back arches wildly as Obito takes the entirety of the other's member into his mouth, leaving the other's hands scrabbling for purchase on the slick tile behind him. The hands eventually find their way into Obito's wet hair, tugging with a spark of impatience while he takes his sweet time eliciting delectable moans from those parted lips. Only when Kakashi's legs begin to quiver uncontrollably with release does he end the torturous swirling of his tongue, lips quirking up in satisfaction at the flushed face above him.

Eyes now hooded with lust, Kakashi's gaze says everything Obito needs to know. He captures his lips again passionately.

✼

Obito rests his head fondly on the pillows as he listens to Kakashi talk, hanging on to every word coming from his lips.

"What if I tell you that I'm falling for you?"

Kakashi’s steady drawl falters, the man blinking at Obito with a look of pure confoundment.

"You're just saying that because you like this," Kakashi laughs as if it's the most entertaining thing he's ever heard, giving the sheets a playful kick. "You aren't the first."

"How about the last?" Obito challenges, watching Kakashi's amused expression.

"Now you're something else entirely." Kakashi shakes his head with the faintest hint of admiration.

"That's the charm."

“Where’d you get these scars?” Kakashi asks suddenly, running his fingers along the dabbling of scars across Obito’s back. Obito tenses slightly. What should he say?

A sharp jackknife in Janeiro. A concealed pipe that caught him by surprise. “Car wreck.” Obito opts to say instead.

“Ouch.” He’s careful with his touches now, fingertips brushing just barely along the dip of Obito’s back.

“Sorry, you don't have to see them. Not exactly the most attractive, is it?" Obito tries turning over but Kakashi holds him in place.

"No, they're fascinating. It’s nice to learn these things about you," Kakashi assures. "I want to learn more. I want to...I want to make it better."

“And how would you go about doing that?” Obito asks, feeling the other more fixated on him now.

“Hm...like this,” Kakashi kisses the marred skin, breath ghosting across Obito’s skin. The kisses trail upwards, light pecks turning into more forceful nips at his skin. He knows that Kakashi’s trying to rile him up again.

As much as Obito likes the attention Kakashi's showering him with now, he wants to see the other’s face more. With a tug Obito flips their positions and Kakashi lets out a breathy laugh underneath him.

"You're beautiful. Unlike me," Obito says.

"You shouldn't be calling a man beautiful," Kakashi teases, cocking his head ever so slightly. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. Perhaps you should take a closer look."

"Oh, I will."

The sex is different this time, slower and Obito conscientiously takes his time mapping out the fine contours Kakashi’s body has to offer, noting the pronounced discoloration of an old wound between the planes of his shoulder blades as Kakashi’s back arches passionately with every movement of his hips.

The light is already fading, the bright midday sun rolling into evening. Their limbs still entangled around each other, Kakashi catches his breath next to Obito, unfocused eyes regaining clarity.

"About what you said earlier..." Kakashi begins, thumbing at the arms wrapped around his chest before turning over to look at Obito.

“You're the first I've ever said it to.”

A steely expression graces Kakashi's face for a fleeting moment before softening. “I trust you.”

“You won't regret it,” Obito offers a grin back, giving Kakashi a quick kiss to the beauty mark on his chin. "We haven’t eaten a thing since morning,”

“Why don’t we go someplace? Although, I have nothing to wear.” He plays with the collar of one of Obito’s discarded shirts.

“Then we must do something about that, don’t we?” Obito replies smoothly, much to the other’s quirked brows.

✼

Their sudden plans lead them to a local bar, providing them with an atmosphere both modern and cozy. They share a pleasant dinner of sirloin and sampling other native specialties, and Obito doesn't even remember the last time he's had such a genuinely good time. Loosening up with wine certainly helps, and it's clear that Kakashi's enjoying this as well.

Kakashi's eyes are practically lighting up as he brings his drink to his lips, tracing his hand along Obito's flirtatiously in his high spirits. At that moment his phone starts buzzing persistently in the pocket of his trousers. He interjects in their conversation momentarily, glancing at the screen. It's Shisui calling.

"I'm going to have to take this call," Obito begins apologetically, to which Kakashi nods in understanding.

"It's fine, I'll be right here. Don't take too long now."

Obito leaves the warmth of the hall reluctantly and walks into the dimly-lit bathroom, checking underneath the stalls briefly before turning on the tap of one of the sinks. He dials back Shisui's number but is surprised to get a busy signal in response. It's strange for Shisui to not be picking up after just having called him. Obito tries ringing a couple more times before slipping his phone back into his pocket. There could be a myriad of reasons for Shisui's absence, but Obito senses something wrong. He'd made a mistake in coming here so soon. It's best if he didn't leave Kakashi alone for too long.

The moment he leans against the sink to screw the tap shut, the metallic barrel of a gun is shoved against his temple.

"It's you again." Obito narrows his eyes, glancing up at his brown-haired aggressor's reflection in the mirror.

"Eyes forward." The assailant orders calmly with a surprisingly light Japanese intonation. "Where is he?"

"I believe you killed the man I've talked to last," he voices dryly, receiving a smirk of amusement.

"You know who I'm talking about. You so kindly took him off my hands some time ago."

Realizing that it's Kakashi the man wants, Obito decides that he's done playing games. "What do you want with him?"

"He has something that belongs to my boss," the man says simply, digging the muzzle painfully into Obito's skin.

"Could it be...that you work for Namikaze?" Obito grits.

"You have no idea who you've been harboring," the man continues, slackening his grip on the gun in a taunting fashion. "Maybe the name ‘Hound’ sounds more familiar?"

Obito takes this chance to contest for the gun in the man's hands, causing him to misfire a shot that shatters the ceramic sink basin next to them. Water erupts from the busted pipes and Obito knocks the gun out of the other's hands with a well-placed punch to the jaw.

Being weaponless doesn't deter the man at all from attacking. The man moves fluidly through the spray and retaliates with a punch of his own that sends Obito sprawling backwards, back colliding painfully with the hard flooring.

Obito is momentarily stunned from the blow, but is quick enough to recover before the other man can send the rest of the sink crashing downwards onto his head. The gun lies on the wet tiling just within arm's length but before Obito can grab ahold of it the other man pulls him to his feet in a strong chokehold.

He struggles with the man to break free from the suffocating headlock he's in, noting that the slippery footing could provide him the advantage. Obito seizes this opportunity to shift the other's weight against him, backing him into the bathroom mirror. Glass flies everywhere, some surely slicing through his attacker's leather jacket. It's still not enough to shake him off though, and Obito is pushed back over the destroyed sink top.

"A raven shows its claws you know," the man hisses through bloodied teeth, pressing Obito's face down against the jagged piece of glass protruding from the mirror. Physically rendered immobile in the man's strong grasp, Obito swallows as his jugular is angled dangerously close to the edges. "I gave you your chance, Sphere."

Obito can't see it but something causes the man to suddenly lurch backwards with a muffled yell, the movement releasing Obito. He crashes to the floor unceremoniously while the sounds of a scuffle occur behind him. Whipping around onto his feet, he finds that his attacker is already on the ground clutching at a slit throat and it's Kakashi who's standing victorious, wielding a bloodied piece of glass.

"Looking for me, Genma?" Kakashi jeers quietly, kneeling over the fallen figure.

Genma wordlessly makes an effort to compress the spewing gash in his neck, reaching for his gun still. Obito watches as Kakashi mercilessly administers with precision the final blow, staining the locks of brown red. "Tsk. Maybe next time."

"Kakashi," Obito calls out. Kakashi shifts his glance towards him.

"You were taking too long," Kakashi remarks, getting back up onto his feet. His demeanor is incessantly cold, eyes hardening with distrust as he twirls the shard in his hand. He knows. He knows that they're the ones they've been looking for. "I was worried. It was a close one, wasn't it, _Sphere_?"

" _Hound_ ," he corrects.

The atmosphere between them grows tense. The water from the broken faucet gushes steadily in the silence before Obito starts straightening up his jacket, studying Kakashi's curious expression.

“Why don't we head back to the house, hm? I'll fix us a drink to calm our nerves,” Obito offers, eyeing the ever-twirling shard in Kakashi's hand.

Kakashi seems to consider his offer. He drops it to the ground after a while of contemplation.

“After you."

✼

“What'll you have?”

“Whiskey. Straight.”

The answer to Obito's question comes in a clipped voice. Obito can feel Kakashi’s eyes boring into him from his seat on the chaise lounge, the other operative likely contemplating his next move. He stands his ground over by the mini bar, removing the stopper from a bottle of Macallan 12 to fix their drinks with.

An air of thick tension hangs over the room. They didn’t say a word to each other on the whole way back to the beach house. By now the bar would've discovered the unlikely surprise that was Genma's body and the damage left in the aftermath of their encounter. There was still more that he needed to know, about Kakashi— _Hound_ —

“He would've killed you, you know,” Kakashi breaks the silence in a noncommittal way, examining the blood staining his hand. “Then again, maybe I should've waited for him to finish the job. That would've made it easier for me.”

“You two seemed to know each other. Who was he?” Obito finishes topping off both of the glasses, glancing at Kakashi finally.

“Genma Shiranui. He was a traitor that served as a personal dog for Minato Namikaze—a name I'm sure you're familiar with already?"

"I think we both are." Obito holds out the glass of whiskey in front of him.

Kakashi scrutinizes the contents for a moment before taking it from Obito's hands. He rises with his drink, circling around the chaise lounge like a lynx on the prowl. Swirling the whiskey in his glass with a placid expression, Kakashi loosens the leather choker adorning his neck and tosses it onto the seats. "Good. Then you know why he had to die."

“I had told myself many times before, when I had gotten the chance to meet this highly-acclaimed _Hound_ face to face, I'd shove a Glock down his throat.” Obito takes a swig of his whiskey, rinsing the cut inside his mouth and embracing the momentary sting.

“And how does he fare in person?”

"He lives up to his reputation."

Kakashi finally downs the silky liquid, exhaling slowly. " _I_ could've killed you. I had many chances to do so."

"Plenty of chances, but why didn't you?" Obito continues to prompt. Their exchange of pleasantries is a thinly veiled joust, each waiting for the one wrong move that would provide them the window of opportunity to strike.

"I found Obito Uchiha an amusing man and was curious to see what would happen next. I see my predictions were correct."

"The man who saved your life."

"But are you the same man?” Kakashi counters, expression undecipherable.

“Aside from my job, I’ve been nothing but honest with you, Kakashi.”

"You've been nothing but a thorn in my side, one that's followed me halfway around the world. Now," Kakashi's fingers clench around the glass, knuckles turning white as he does so. "It ends here."

The utterance of his words are final.

“My pleasure.”

Before their glasses even hit the floor, they are already exchanging kicks and punches.

It's clear that they are equally matched in melee combat; Obito possessed greater physical strength but the younger agent has near-feline agility on his side.

He wipes the blood trickling down the side of his mouth, from a punch that caught him on the side of his jaw, amusedly. “Not a bad punch you throw."

His opponent shares the smirk in an unlikely camaraderie. "Not a bad punch yourself.”

Obito sees an opportunity to intercept, catching Kakashi's hands behind his back and pinning him against the mini-bar countertop.

"Enough with playing dirty. You're not working for just anyone, aren't you? You're working for Danzo Shimura. "

“You should know by now that playing dirty is what I do _best_.”

Kakashi scoffs, pulling his head back and slamming it into Obito's jaw. Using the counterweight he expertly throws Obito back-first onto the marble countertop, sending the rack of suspended glassware smashing to the floor one after the other. Kakashi bounds effortlessly over the toppled mess and grabs hold of the bartender's knife as Obito shakes off the pain shooting up his shoulders.

Breaking a nearby flask in two, Obito counters the fast swings Kakashi charges at him with. An adept kick knocks the broken flask out of Obito's hand. Dodging a slash of the knife by mere seconds, Obito slams Kakashi into the glass liquor shelf, dousing them both in shattered glass.

Kakashi's eyes meet his. Obito really looks at Kakashi then, and despite his cut lip and the blood smearing the bridge of his nose, the other operative was truly beautiful.

Amidst the overwhelming desire to destroy, it's unknown to Obito when exactly shoving each other against sharp edges with the utmost lethality transformed into shoving their lips against one another's. The same hands that sought weapons to dismember moments earlier instead end up entwined in fistfuls of hair. It's no doubt still a fight for dominance even when they both succumb to the kiss, lips bruising and teeth clashing with harsh bites. As they stumble hastily onto the bed, Obito tastes copper when his tongue meets Kakashi's again.

Kakashi digs his nails painfully into Obito's back through his shirt, as if to embed all the loathing and want inscribed so clearly in his eyes onto Obito's skin. To pry him off or pull him close—it makes no difference when Kakashi's curses are indiscernable from the intelligible gasps of breath strangled out of his lungs. Hitching up the other man's shirt crudely for access, Obito pushes into Kakashi without preamble.

In their frenzied pace there's no time to think. It's the sheer physicality of the moment, reliant on pure instinct, that makes their movements desperate, hips bucking against each other wildly.

The moment the breathlessness of the afterglow subsides, Kakashi's lips break free from their kiss with a dazed expression, pulling a knife from beneath the pillow he was clutching earlier and pointing it at Obito's throat.

Obito simultaneously cocks the gun in his hand, waiting for the silver-haired operative's next move.

There is a moment of the tense standoff where Kakashi’s fast but Obito is faster, wrestling the knife out of the younger man's grasp and sending it clattering onto the floor.

“Go on, pull the trigger,” Kakashi spits.

“I can’t." Obito lowers the gun in his hand, tossing it aside on the bed. “And I won’t.”

Kakashi’s eyes widen in shock. Obito releases his grip on Kakashi's wrists and the operative instincts of the other man kicks in immediately, reaching for the gun and reversing their positions.

“Damn you." Kakashi keeps the gun flush against Obito's temple but his voice cracks. “Damn you, Obito!”

Ignoring Kakashi's curses, Obito pulls the naked man above him closer by the waist.

“Let go of me.”

“Kakashi, you don't have to keep working for Danzo Shimura.” Obito says softly, pressing a kiss to Kakashi’s shoulder.

Kakashi ceases his struggles after a moment, going limp in Obito’s hold. “What makes you think I would give up my job for you?” he breathes.

Obito lifts Kakashi up by the shoulders and gives him a sincere smile. “Because I can tell the job doesn’t make you happy. And I would give up mine for you too,” he says before capturing the younger man's lips in another deep kiss, and is met with no resistance.


End file.
